Eternity bores me, I never wanted it.

I have the choice of being constantly active and happy or introspectively passive and sad. Or I can go mad by ricocheting in between.

I have let things slip, a thirty-year~old cargo boat Stubbornly hanging on to my name and address.

I didn't know shorthand either. This meant I couldn't get a good job after college. My mother kept telling me nobody wanted a plain English major. But an English major who knew shorthand would be something else again. Everybody would want her. She would be in demand among all the up-and-coming young men and she would transcribe letter after thrilling letter. The trouble was, I hated the idea of serving men in any way. I wanted to dictate my own thrilling letters.

I must bridge the gap between adolescent glitter and mature glow.

…beating time along the edge of thought.

What is my life for and what am I going to do with it? I don't know and I'm afraid.